


Halloween

by AJuicyContradiction



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Halloween, Parentlock, Teenagers, parenting is hard, slutty costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:11:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJuicyContradiction/pseuds/AJuicyContradiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Violet Holmes is a pirate for Hallween. John is not amused and who the hell is Jacob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Out of season, but I don't care.   
> Violet was Sherlock's daughter before he met John. Now, years later, they have the joint pleasure of parenting a teenager

Sherlock had successfully wrapped up another case, this one only barely making the cut at an 8.2, but once he’d left the flat and the sister was killed- the case was entirely worth it. He returned home not worse for wear and only slightly exhausted by his chase, and he was hungry, starving even. He’d hoped, as much as he was loath to admit, to arrive home to a quiet house with John cooking, or take away in the micro at the very least. Instead, he arrived to a shouting match.

“Where the hell did you even find that,” John shouted, Violet huffed and wrapped her coat tighter.

“How is that relevant,” she argued, “it doesn't show anything, it doesn't matter.” Sherlock walked in and set his own coat on the rack by the door, he unwound his scarf just before John turned on him.

“Look what your daughter is trying to wear out of the house.” Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, Violet was hardly any trouble, clothing in particular was only an issue during the summer and it was nearing November now. He looked over his daughter noting the tense set of her jaw, across her black coat down and to her shoes which were frankly a bit startling.

“What’s the problem then,” he asked.

“John is overreacting,” she said coldly, Sherlock crossed his arms and positioned himself in between the two.

“Really, I’m overreacting,” John exclaimed, “drop your coat and let him see.” Violet rolled her eyes but a red flush colored her cheeks which was unusual to say the least.

“I’d rather not,” she said curtly.

“Violet if you don’t mind other people seeing your outfit, surely it’s not a problem.” Sherlock prompted. She sighed and shrugged off her coat to reveal an ensemble he’d certainly not seen before. A dark green corset offset by a miniscule black skirt and a leather strap across her chest, holding what looked to be her old fencing foil- topped off with stripper heels that he was the least bit impressed she could even stand in. Sherlock struggled to keep his face even, he cleared his throat and looked to John.

“Tell me it’s Halloween,” he begged quietly. John only nodded, eyes still locked on Violet. Sherlock sighed and rocked back on his heels, thank god it was a costume ,“What are we then,” he continued, “a slutty pirate?”

“Something to that effect,” she whispered, eyes cast to the floor.

“Turn,” Sherlock said curtly. Violet huffed a sigh but turned in a circle, still avoiding eye contact and crossing her arms over her lacking top when she stepped back to face them. 

“Do you see what I mean now?” John asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we can’t let her go out like this.”

“I don’t see why not,” Sherlock shrugged.

“What,” both John and Violet looked to him suddenly, shock clear in both of their expressions.

“As far as I can see everything vital is covered,” Sherlock gestured, “and as long as she’s safe and responsible the only thing she could loose is her dignity and possibly her reputation but based on the fact that she bothered to order the outfit at all, I’d bet her peers are dressed in the same fashion. ”

She nodded.

John set his jaw to argue but stopped, catching the glint in his partner’s eye. “Well you’re her father,” he conceded, “if you’re alright with it, then fine.”

“Of course,” Sherlock nodded, “if she’s comfortable with the outfit then she can go.”   
They both looked to Violet who stood abruptly at the same time as the doorbell rang, 

“Yep I’m good,” she quipped, “bye Dad, John,” she made for the front door, but Sherlock was there first. He opened it to a tall boy, wearing black denim pants and little more than a leather vest and a strap for his own foil across his bare torso and slim waist. John looked between the three of them intently.

“Mr. Holmes, it so great to meet you. I’m Jacob,” he said, offering a hand to Sherlock.

“Ah, no,” Sherlock quipped.

“Dad, what-“

“No, I change my mind, Violet go inside and Jacob if you would return home and then stay there that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Sir-“

“Goodnight.” Sherlock closed the door on the confused boy and turned on his daughter.

“Dad you said I could go.” She argued.

“I thought you were going alone and I only barely agreed to that,” he said, voice rising, “ but there is no way in hell you are going anywhere with that,” he exclaimed, gesturing back to the door, “especially wearing little more than tights and a corset.”

“What did I say,” John called.

Violet huffed and stormed off to her room, the resulting slam of her door resonating throughout the small house.  
Sherlock walked back into the living room where John had picked up a book.

“That was…….Did I handle that well?” Sherlock asked, running a hand through unruly black curls now peppered with flecks of gray.

“Better than I was doing, at least she started to listen.”

“Sort of,” Sherlock grimaced.

“She’s 16 and usually very well behaved, honestly it was about time,” John conceded.

“I suppose,” Sherlock sighed, he moved into the kitchen and found that there was, in fact, take away in the micro. He pulled it out to fix a small plate but stopped suddenly. “Do you hear anything?”

They both stopped to listen, the overwhelming silence of the house telling all, after another beat there was a distinct thump and a quickly hushed baritone greeting followed by a muffled car engine.

“She’s gone, isn’t she,” Sherlock groaned, already well-aware of the answer.

“At least she changed,” John replied, Sherlock nodded, she couldn’t have jumped wearing the corset, nor landed safely in the shoes. He debated going after her before deciding that, for all their overreactions, John had been right, just then. Following them to crime scenes and spending the majority of her time holed up in her room surrounded by books wasn’t much of a childhood, so he would allow it, just this once. He, of course, shot a quick text to his brother and another to Lestrade to ensure that she was monitored while he was otherwise…engaged. 

“Very astute observation Dr. Watson,” he said finally. John smirked and set down his book.

“How long do you think she’ll be out for?”

“At least 2 hours,” Sherlock quipped, lips tugging up at the edges even as he shrugged off his suit jacket.

The takeaway was left to go cold on the kitchen table.


End file.
